


The Nomads Are Settling Down

by trashcangimmick



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chubby Steve Harrington, Cigarettes, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post canon, Spanking, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/pseuds/trashcangimmick
Summary: Billy is trying to quit smoking. It’s not going very well.





	The Nomads Are Settling Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [letshargroovetonight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letshargroovetonight/gifts).

It’s been three days since Billy had a cigarette. At least, as far as Steve knows. 

When Billy walks through the door of their apartment after his shift at the dealership, Steve kisses him. Steve must taste the spearmint gum. Billy showered at the gym and went heavy on the body spray. It all looks very suspicious. 

If Billy told the truth, Steve would say,  _ relapses happen, it’s OK.  _ Billy resents what Steve insists is support, because it feels like condescension. So, if pressed, Billy would lie. Steve, on the other hand, resents being lied to. He also probably knows what happened without asking. So it’s better if they just don’t say anything about how hard Billy tried to erase the lingering guilt of a Marlboro Red in the parking lot during his lunch break. 

Billy has quit smoking about ten times in the past twenty days. It’s not that he isn’t trying. It’s hard. His head hurts, and he gets irritable, and the world gets unbearably sharp. He’s hungry all the time. He can’t sleep. He sweats. He coughs. It’s felt like he’s had the flu for weeks. The  _ cravings  _ are fucking unbearable. 

Steve bought him a bag of lollipops to suck on, like that would help anything. He bought the nicotine gum. The patches. The lozenges. None of it distracts from the ache in Billy’s bones. None of it really eases the need he feels. It’s like trying not to breathe. Your lungs ache. Try not to eat. Your stomach twists and burns and digests itself. 

They have dinner on the couch, watching some comedy Billy can’t focus on. Steve made baked salmon and broccoli. They drink sparkling water because they’re fuckin teetotalers now. Thirty years old and no fun at all. Steve keeps talking about how they quit drinking. Billy can totally do this. He can quit smoking. He can. 

When Steve says stuff like that, Billy wants to tell him that smoking was the only thing that got him off booze. It’s a habit he’s had even longer. He started stealing Neil’s cigarettes when he was nine years old. Around the same time his mom left and Neil started hitting him. But those monologues are depressing and Steve’s heard them before. He’s gotta be tired of them by now.

After they eat, Billy does the dishes. Then he lies with his head in Steve’s lap as the TV drones on. Steve cards his fingers through Billy’s hair. It’s long as he can get away with, fluffy on top, shaved down on the sides. The more Steve touches him, the fuzzier Billy’s thoughts become. He doesn’t slip off to sleep exactly. He goes somewhere else. He goes to a place where things are softer. He’s less aware of his surroundings. 

“It’s OK,” Steve murmurs, before Billy can even have the thought. The moment of doubt. “I’ve got you, baby. Just relax.”

The tension drains away. Replaced by warm feelings. He doesn’t track the passage of time. It might be minutes, might be hours, before Billy struggles into a seated position. He settles into Steve’s lap. Hides his face against Steve’s neck. 

_ “Daddy,” _ it’s barely a whisper. Voice so small and fragile. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I um… I was bad.”

“Well. At least you’re being a good boy now. Telling the truth.” Steve strokes a hand down Billy’s back. “Are you sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You get to pick what happens then. Do you want to go to bed early, or do you want Daddy to punish you, and then we can have some playtime?”

Billy’s face feels hot. He’s tingly. Starting to get hard. Steve would give him that choice even if he wasn’t good. Even if he acted like a brat. He appreciates it anyway. He almost never wants to go to bed early. 

“Wanna play,” Billy mumbles. Pressing closer. He wants to grind against Steve’s soft stomach. 

Over the years, Steve has put on some weight. It suits him. He’s hairy, and solid, with a little beer belly and thick thighs. He’s got a scruffy beard, and kind eyes, and gentle hands. He’s everything Neil wasn’t. 

“OK. Over my knees. C’mon.”

Billy shifts. He unzips his pants and lies with his hips over Steve’s legs, face down on the couch. His heart beats in his throat as Steve tugs the waistband of his jeans down. He smacks Billy’s ass through the thin layer of his briefs. Not too hard. Just enough to sting. Billy gasps.

Steve pulls the underwear down too, exposing naked skin. Billy’s cock is leaking. Dribbling on Steve’s basketball shorts. He wants to move, get a little friction, but he knows he’s not allowed to. 

“How many cigarettes was it?” Steve just rubs his palm over Billy’s ass. Squeezing it. Warming him up. 

“Just one.”

“Good. How much discipline do you deserve?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Fifty strokes?”

“O-OK.” Billy shivers. 

He knows Steve won’t make it unbearable. Some people would. Billy’s had people give him welts. Make him bleed. Because in the moment, he’ll mewl, and moan, and love it. Steve only hurts him enough to take the edge off. He only does it because Billy wants it, and he knows Billy wants more than what’s good for him. 

It starts off slow. Unpredictable. Billy doesn’t try to keep count. He just gets lost in the feeling. The tantalizing slap of skin. The sting. The way he starts to burn up. When he can’t help from jerking and trying to squirm away, Steve pauses. 

He rests his hand in the small of Billy’s back. Anchoring him. 

“You’re doing so good baby. Just ten more.”

They’re harder. They hurt. Each smack makes Billy whimper. His cheeks feel wet. He’s crying. 

Then it’s over. Billy’s light headed. He’s a few steps removed from reality, his nerves over-sensitized. Steve gathers him up and carries him to bed. Billy lies on top of Steve, because it’s uncomfortable to be on his back. Steve is a big pillow. Billy is still hard. 

Steve opens him up so slow and careful. Billy won’t stop begging  _ Daddy, please, please I need it,  _ until he’s got Steve’s cock inside him and he can rock on it while he ruts against Steve’s belly. It never gets all that fast, even if it’s achy and desperate. Billy wants as much of Steve in him as possible, so he refuses to do much more than grind. Steve comes, holding Billy close. He wraps a wide hand around Billy’s cock, strokes it fast and tight. Billy gives over to the wash of sensation and shudders with the aftershocks for at least a few minutes. 

He doesn’t let Steve up to clean them off. He wants kisses. He wants to be held. 

Steve whispers  _ I love you, baby _ . Billy remembers why he’s quitting smoking. He wants as much time with Steve as possible. 

He loves Steve more than cigarettes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ‘Nomad’s Revolt’ by Mischief Brew. 
> 
> Check out flippyspoon’s or my [ tumblr](https://trashcangimmick.tumblr.com/) and search ‘Harringrove for RACIES’ to find the Deets if you’re interested in it.


End file.
